Triumph of tradition

THERE is something defiant about a restaurant that, in our pestered, politically-correct times, is called a chop house.

That this one was so named just two years ago is almost a political statement, one brought to life by the ingredients used and, in this instance, how they are used.

That the guests eat in a warren of snug, almost secret rooms tucked away behind a wonderfully preserved Victorian bar adds to the sense that the house’s values celebrate tradition rather than fashion. Or, as a sceptic might poke, it just may be that in the cycle of these things, in the great flux of our times, there is a market for comfort food.